


scrappy little nobody

by BD1



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Grogu | Baby Yoda Being a Little Shit, In Public, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Protective Grogu | Baby Yoda, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Sensory Deprivation, Tension, The Helmet Stays On, The Mandalorian (TV) Spoilers, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, i'm sorry favreau, making up shit about ships, trying to stay canon accurate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BD1/pseuds/BD1
Summary: The beskar helmet casually tilts to the side, looking over your anxious face, before his modulated voice rings back through your ears. “Are we gonna ignore this? Or are we gonna act like adults and do something about it?”
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 25
Kudos: 82





	1. just the engine

**Author's Note:**

> hi mando simps :) this fic has a playlist that basically follows ur feelings for din so listen in order https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2VReMKljPMXDui31ApyYLU?si=OfSaJfl-QBeckgXclBTUWQ  
> (if the link doesn't work just search scrappy little nobody on Spotify)
> 
> lil bit of spice in chap 3, smut in chap 4

You wait in the shadows, pistol in hand. The footsteps of several stormtroopers echo through the large room. As one draws close, you put a hand over your mouth to silence your breathing. You’re just about to burst around the corner, ready to shoot, when-

“Ping!”

The mechanical tone, signaling the imminent arrival of a ship, brings you back to reality. Fighting the empire. What a silly thing to daydream about. Although you crave adventure and danger, you’ve been working as an engineer on the remote planet of Batuu for as long as you can remember. Fixing pieces of junk, day in, day out. The massive peaks looming beyond the buildings of Black Spire Outpost serve as a reminder of the wilderness you’ll never touch. You couldn’t survive a day out on your own. Even with the distant stars calling out to you every night, you can still appreciate where you are. Your quaint workshop is cozy, albeit a bit lonely sometimes.

Hearing the rumbling of a landing ship, you grab your toolbox and get ready to work. You step out onto the landing pad, blinking the sun out of your eyes, to see a pre-empire gunship settling down to rest.  _ What a clunker _ , you think. As the ship’s ramp descends with a hiss, you take a closer look at the scuffed vessel, recognizing the exact model; a Razor Crest.

You begin typing the info into your datapad. Punching in the data, you suddenly feel a presence directly in front of you. You quickly look up to see...a Mandalorian. Armored with shining beskar and standing at least a foot taller than you, the being oozes power and danger.  _ I thought they all died in the Great Purge?  _ Obviously not.

Their helmet tilts down at you as a dark, modulated voice asks “Can you fix my ship?” The deepness of his voice rattles your core as you slowly nod. “Let me just have a look inside,” you softly answer. Toolbox in one hand, datapad in the other, you slowly scale the ramp of the ship. The interior is dark and a bit dirty. As you walk around the ship, scanning various issues and broken bits with your datapad, you see a carbonite chamber and a large arsenal.  _ Must be another bounty hunter. No smuggler would need this many guns.  _

Once you’re finished in the hull, you climb the narrow ladder leading to the cockpit. This part seems surprisingly clean and well preserved. After scanning the last of the upper level, you make your way back to the landing pad. The Mandalorian is polishing his blaster with his cape as you briskly walk over to him.

“Okay so you have a bit of faulty wiring and your lighting system is somewhat inefficient fuel-wise. The biggest problem is the engine. It’s clogged with some sort of sand and hasn’t been oiled in way too long. I bet you’ve been flying pretty slow lately, right?” When he doesn’t respond, you keep going. “But I can definitely fix it. Should I just do the engine or can I fix up everything?”

“Just the engine.”

“Are you sure? You would save quite a bit of fuel if I fixed those lights, and I could spiff up your hull’s interior too-”

“The engine”

“Okay. That’ll be…”  _ 250, 120, 68, 92,  _ “530 credits.” He pulls the chits out of his pocket and places them in your hand. “Thanks! I’ll have that finished by tomorrow afternoon,” You nervously conclude. Glancing down at his belt, you see a flashing quarry puck. Just as you’re about to ask who it’s for, he turns with a swish of his cape and walks off without another word.  _ Guess he’s not much of a talker.  _

  
  


You don’t like sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating. Especially when you’ve been scraping it out of an ion accelerator chamber for hours. Maker, your back already aches and you still have to clean and oil everything. It’s times like these where you feel frustrated at your situation. You know you’re a highly-skilled engineer and could fix this ship’s most complex problems without a drop of sweat. But you’re stuck doing this manual labor any stupid droid could do. Brushing the last bit of sand out of the blade of a deflector shield, you clamber back into the main area of the upper floor. 

As you step off the ramp, you observe the setting sun. Its brilliant oranges and reds dancing in the cloud-dotted sky. The way the windows of each rounded building reflect the hundreds of yellow shades. You’ll never stop being amazed by the simple beauty of nature. The first stars twinkle in the sky, so close but so out of reach. As much as you can appreciate Batuu’s positive features, you still feel the stars’ gravity. Pulling you in. Calling out to you. 

Eventually, you make yourself go back into your workshop for supper. Food on Batuu is fine, but not great. You shove a frozen tip-yip in your microwave and walk further into your workshop to grab the oil you’ll need tomorrow. You set the large container near the door as the microwave beeps. As you sit down to eat, your thoughts drift back to Him. The way he towered over you. The way his armor shone in the sun. The masculinity you could practically smell. You were almost scared of him but intrigued at the same time. What hid behind that beskar? What did he look like under that mask? You start eating before you get too lost in your thoughts, and tip yip is just as gross as it always is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was super short I'm just setting everything up!! Things will get spicy soon don't worry.


	2. lift off

  


Sun drifting through your dusty window stirs you from your sleep. Your eyes lazily blink open to a terracotta ceiling.  _ Ugh. What time is it?  _ You slowly roll over to glance at your holoclock.  _ 7:30.  _ You still have to oil everything on the Razor Crest, so you drag yourself out of bed and into your tiny kitchen to make some breakfast. Pouring water into a plastic tray, you watch as brownish powder puffs up into a small roll of portion bread. It’s dry and chewy, but has a dash of blueberry that makes the meal mediocre overall. As you eat, you gaze out the window overlooking the street. It’s too early for heavy foot traffic, but you can see the many vendors opening their various shops and stands. 

You get up with a sigh, shoving the last few crumbs into your mouth as you head back out onto the landing pad. Blinking the last few hints of sleep from your eyes, you lug the heavy oil container up the ship’s ramp. 

  
  
  


Oiling everything doesn’t take as long as you expected, and you’re done by about 12:30. Climbing back down the tiny ladder, you take another look at the ship’s hull. Dim, dank, and dirty.  _ A bit of cleaning couldn’t hurt, right? If anything it’s good service.  _ You grab a rag from your back pocket and get to work wiping down a wall panel. As you clean, your thoughts once again float out of the ship and back to the mysterious Mandalorian. How long had he been doing bounty hunter work?  _ Must be a while from the state of this thing.  _ Your mind replays the memory from yesterday, talking to him on the landing pad. There was just something about him you couldn’t put your finger on. He made you feel...something. What was it? Fear? Curiosity? ...Lust?  _ No. He’s a client. Stop.  _ You shake the thought out of your head and continue on the next panel, shoving him to the back of your mind. 

Moving down the wall, you keep dusting and polishing until you come across some sort of...orb? Something white and scuffed hovers just over the bottom of a large niche in the wall. Upon closer inspection, you see a couple small buttons on the side of it. Do you dare push them? You weigh the choices for a second before curiosity takes over and you push the one closest to you. To your surprise, the top of the object opens with a  _ whoosh  _ and reveals- _ the fuck?-  _ a small green creature. Its’ large beady eyes look up at you as the being groggily babbles. Despite the wrinkly forehead and massive ears, it’s kind of...cute?  _ It must be a kid. I mean, look at it. But what’s it doing here? Does he belong to the Mandalorian?  _ You want to push the button and reclose the opening, but you can’t just leave him there. It’s a kid.  _ That guy shoulda hired a babysitter or something. _

You resolve to continue cleaning while keeping an eye on him until the Mandalorian comes back. Just as you’re pulling the rag back out of your pocket, the creature starts wailing.  _ What the fuck?  _ You rush back to the cradle and lift him into your arms, trying to give him some maternal comfort. To no avail. The sobbing continues as you frantically try to figure out what he wants.  _ Shit okay. What do babies need? Milk? No. Maker, it’s loud. Okay, think. Uhhhh. Oh! Food!  _ You scramble back to your kitchen, creature in hand. Setting him down on your low counter, you dig through your small refrigerator.  _ Something healthy right? Growing kid?  _ You pull a radish out and try to hand it to the child, but he angrily shoves it away. “Well what the hell do you want then!?” you exclaim. You’re about to open your mouth again when he suddenly goes silent, shutting his eyes. Confused, you slowly sit down on a stool, keeping a close eye on the being. At first, you think he’s asleep again, but then he’s raising his tiny arm and a chunk of meat floats out of your refrigerator.  _ What. The. Fuck.  _ You had heard tales of the mysterious “Force”, but assumed it was all make-believe. But what else could explain this?  _ Okay, this is fine. Baby with superpowers. No big deal.  _ His loud chomping pulls you out of your thoughts. He stares at you and you stare right back. After your short-lived staring contest, you grab the discarded radish and bite down into it.  _ Okay fine. Lunchtime.  _

  


  


Your shared meal is interrupted with a loud Bang! from outside. You glance at the creature before jumping off your stool and rushing to the door. Just as you’re about to reach the threshold, the doors slide open on their own to reveal the man who’s been occupying your thoughts. You can’t even get a word in before he steps right up to you with an intimidating stance.

“Where’s the kid?” he says. His modulated voice is quiet, but the tone sends shivers down your spine. This was not someone to mess with.

“Don’t worry he’s fine. I’ve got him right here,” You turn around to see the tiny thing waddling over to the Mandalorian.

“Why the hell wasn’t he in my ship?” he continues.

“He was hungry! I was just giving him some food,” you respond defensively. “Get a babysitter next time.” As soon as it blurts out of your mouth you regret it. The Mandalorian steps so close to you that you’re craning your neck up to look at him. The cold beskar helmet tilts down at you, and you can tell it’s shielding a glare.

Clearing your throat, you take a step back before saying “Sorry. I just wanted to make sure he was okay. Your ship is all ready for you.” He still stares down at you, and you can’t tell if he’s angry or...something else.  _ Stop. He’s obviously mad.  _ He stands there for what feels like an eternity before finally picking the tiny creature up and walking back out your workshop doors.

You turn around with a sigh and plop back down on your kitchen stool. You have to admit, you’re a little disappointed that you’ll never see him again. The haunting way he stared right through you lingers in your mind. You’ll never say it out loud, but a part of you loved the way you had to look up at his shining beskar. He was just so...big. In a good way. In a hot way.  _ Stop! Sheesh. _ You quickly stand up, trying to shove your thoughts to the back of your head.

You’re just pulling out your datapad when the doors slide open. You look up to see him. His silhouette taking up the majority of your doorframe.

“Oh! Hey. Did I miss something? I can fix it right up for you.” You blurt out. 

“Uh thanks. For watching the kid.” He says quickly.

“Oh, um n-no problem!”

“You wanna work for me?”

The question startles you.  _ What? Me? Why?  _ You try to weigh your options while he stands in the door, waiting for your answer.

“Look I don’t have all day. You did a good job with the ship. Could use someone like you to keep it running nicely. And to keep up with the kid. Yes or no?”

_ Yes, of course. Yes! Yes! Y-  _ “Sure, okay! Let me just, um pack a bag,” you nervously respond. As soon as you answer him, he turns around and walks back to the landing pad. You scramble over to your room and begin shoving clothes into a large duffel bag. You don’t really know why you even agreed to this. Wait, yes you do. Because  _ he  _ asked you to. But it’s not just that. The thought of traveling across the galaxy with a bounty hunter and possible force-wielding creature sounds like everything you’ve been dreaming of. Adventure.

You throw the essentials (toothbrush, comb, screwdriver, etc) into a small crossbody pouch as you rush towards the doors. Pulling up your datapad, you punch in a message to your friend, Celeste. 

_ Finally getting off this rock :D Leaving in a hurry tho. Don’t know how long I’ll be gone. So watch the shop for me, ok? I’ll come back to visit as soon as I can. Love you to the inner rim and back <3 _

You look over your workshop one last time before jogging out to the landing pad. Rushing up the ramp, the ship’s entrance closes right behind you as you burst into the hull. You stash your bags in a small corner while looking around the newly cleaned interior.  _ Where is he?  _ Your question is quickly answered when a dark, modulated voice booms “Come up.” As you cautiously climb the ladder to the cockpit, you feel the ship jerk as it begins to rise off the ground. You scramble through the small opening in the floor and into the cockpit just as the ship takes off. Batuu’s trademark spires shrink below you, and the gravity of your decision slams into you all at once.  _ I’m about to live on a stranger’s ship, going who knows where to do who knows what. Wow.  _ You’re starting to rethink your choice when the Mandalorian’s voice snaps you out of it.

“Thanks. For fixing it up and everything. Did a nice job. Even for a scrappy little nobody.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't very long either, but I wanted to get it out quickly cus this already has 150+ hits! Thanks y'all :)


	3. hyperspace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tinyyy bit of spice but it's gonna be a minute before mando does anything. i wanna build up the tension a lil bit.

“Thanks. For fixing it up and everything. Did a nice job. Even for a scrappy little nobody.”

“Oh! Of course! No, uh, no problem at all! Just um let me know what you want me to do here,” you stumble.

“Already told you. Watch the kid, keep the ship running,” his deep modulated voice echoes around the small cockpit. You can hear the slight annoyance in his tone.

“Right, totally. Will do. Thanks,” you utter. The cramped cockpit has a certain…tension filling it. What type of tension, you’re not sure. But it hangs heavily in the air as you stare at the back of the leather pilot’s chair, watching the way his gloved hands grip the controls. 

Batuu is now far below you and glittering stars fill most of your view. “Wow. Space is so beautiful. I’ve always admired it, even just on the ground. But up  _ here.  _ It’s so different. Wow,” You say. The Mandalorian doesn’t respond, but you can tell he’s listening. “I always wanted to be out here. In the galaxy, I mean. Batuu is nice and all, but what could beat this? Just stars as far as I can see. And so many planets I can finally reach, ya know? This is so exciting!” He’s quiet for a few more seconds and finally hums a “Hm”.  _ I’ll take it. _

You slowly sit down in the seat behind him. He doesn’t seem to mind. Glancing at the glowing quarry puck on the dashboard, he punches in a few coordinates and says “Hold on.”

“What? Hold on to wh-” you feel your body jerk forward as the stars in front of you begin to blur, speeding up until they’re just streaks of white. The once dark space is a blue, pulsating, tunnel of some sort.  _ Oh! This must be- _

“Hyperspace,” he mutters. “We’ll be in here for a while. Go make yourself useful.”

“Okay! I’ll go find...does he have a name? Your kid?”

“Don’t know.”

“Oh, alright. Well, I’ll um go tidy up the hull, okay? If you want me to do something specific, just, uh, let me know!” You stand up and quickly make your way over to the small hatch leading downstairs. Just as your foot hits the bottom rung, you hear the child stirring.  _ Shit, already?  _ You rush over to his pram just as his large eyes are blinking open. “Hey buddy! Ya hungry?” you ask with a smile. You don’t know if he can even understand you, but you may as well try just in case. He just blinks up at you.  _ I guess he’s fine then?  _ You turn around to leave, but he starts crying as soon as you try.  _ Fuck.  _ “Okokok calm down, I’m right here,” you say soothingly as you gently lift him out of the crib. As soon as he’s in your arms his cries quiet down. “Alright then. I’m s’posed to do some cleaning, but I’ll just hold you for a bit, ok?” you whisper as he snuggles into your shoulder. 

With the kid in one arm, you start walking around the hull, looking in all the corners and pockets. You spot a large niche in the wall with possibly the thinnest mattress you’ve ever seen.  _ That must be where he sleeps? This guy should invest in some pillows or something, jeez.  _ A bit further into the hull, you find a skinny refrigerator and a few drawers of supplies, along with a fresher with a shower in it. On the other side of the room, you see the carbon freezers and some weird-looking panels. Upon closer inspection, you see that they stick out of the wall like a large cupboard. You carefully press the cool metal and the panels slide open to reveal at least 10 guns, as well as a few other weapons on the sides.  _ Sheesh, okay. 100% a bounty hunter.  _ The rest of the wall is mostly blank, excluding a few wire panels and small niches containing spare parts and tools. The hull isn’t exactly cozy, but it could be comfortable.  _ I can make the best out of this _ .

The weight of the kid is starting to hurt your arm, so you look down to make sure he’s fully asleep before carefully placing him in an especially small niche, filled with scratchy blankets. You grab your bags from the corner and place them in one of the empty supply drawers, before digging through your duffel bag to find your towel.  _ I should take a shower. _ Hot, running water wasn’t exactly a guarantee on Batuu, and you felt a bit grimy. You slide open the fresher door and carefully set your towel on the floor before turning the shower handle to warm.  You push the fresher door closed before taking your clothes off; a simple long-sleeve white tee, a worn leather jacket, and black padded pants. You place your scuffed combat boots under the sink before stepping into the steamy shower. 

The hot water hits your shoulders and your muscles instantly relax. It’s been longer than you realize since you’ve had a hot, pressurized shower. You pull your long hair out of your usual ponytail before massaging your shampoo into it. As the water runs down your body, you think back to the Mandalorian. The fact that you’re in such close proximity with you all exposed is...interesting, to say the least. You flashback to the image of his hands gripping the ship’s controls, and for a second you imagine your throat in his strong hands instead.  _ Stop it. Can’t keep having these kinda thoughts if I’m working for him. Ugh.  _ But you couldn’t just shove the images away this time. You imagine what he looks like under all the heavy armor. He has to have muscles if he hunts for a living. Flexing biceps and rough abs under tanned skin.  _ Fuck.  _ You wonder what he’s  _ into.  _ Bet he likes it rough. Bet he would shove himself into you and take what he wants. You close your eyes and replay the memory of his helmet tilting down at you, instead imagining his hands down something else as your own slide down your body. It had been so long since you’d touched yourself.  _ It’s not like he read minds, right? A quickie couldn’t hurt.  _ You imagine his modulated voice instructing you as you trace your fingers down your folds.  _ “Cmon. Touch it for me.”  _ Your breath hitches as you begin to slowly circle your clit, imaging leather gloves in place of your own hands. It had been so long since you’ve done this. With the stress of the workshop and lack of any men in your life, you just never got yourself to put in the effort. But this is different. He is different. You can’t deny it, how much he turns you on. You don’t even know why. Something about the strength and danger just emanating off him. You stifle a moan as your fingers begin to work quicker. How would  _ his  _ moans sound, coming out of that modulator? His deep voice telling you exactly what to do with yourself.  _ “What a little slut. Barely been a few hours on my ship and you’re already fucking yourself in my shower? Disgusting.”  _ You feel warm water running down your face as you get closer and closer.  _ “You gonna cum for me, huh? Do it then. Cum.”  _ A new heat spreads through your body as your muscles begin to tighten. Your legs shake slightly as you feel a wave of pleasure approaching. Almost there. Almost there. Almost there. Almost the- 

You’re about to reach your climax when you’re interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps hitting the rungs of the ladder.  _ Shitshitshitshitshitshit.  _ You try to control the shaking in your legs as you slam the shower faucet to the off position. Wrapping your towel around you, you grab your clothes and boots from the floor before slowly sliding the fresher door open. He’s standing there, watching you.  _ Fuck. Does he know? No, of course not. I didn’t actually make any noise. It’s fine. Pull yourself together.  _

“Sorry, I needed a sh-shower,” you stutter, staring awkwardly at the floor. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking as you feel his gaze. You watch your hair drip onto the scratched metal floor. “I’m just, um, gonna grab some clean clothes,” you say before shuffling over to the drawers, avoiding his eyes. As you zip open the duffel bag, you’re not sure if you should pull out pajamas or normal clothes. Time feels weird in hyperspace.

“It’s getting late,” he says, somehow answering your question. You tuck the pajamas, which is really just a black tank top with baggy cloth pants, under your arm before responding.

“Oh, sorry. For some reason, time feels different here. Ya know, in hyperspace. I’ll just go change into these ok? And I’ll clean up that water right after. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says without breaking his stare. You blush under his gaze as you rush over to the fresher and slide the door shut behind you. Placing your hands on the small sink, you wipe a hole into the fogged up mirror to look at yourself.  _ Okay. Get. It. Together.  _ You turn away from the mirror to change before drying your hair as much as you can with the damp towel. You hang it on the shower rod and return to the main area of the hull. Thankfully, the Mandalorian is no longer looking at you, instead grabbing something from a drawer in the wall. You return your gaze to the floor until a bundle of scratchy blankets is placed in your hands, and you snap your head up to see that beskar helmet looking down at you. 

“This is what I have. There aren’t any beds in here, so just find a spot or something. We’ll get some stuff at the next port. Sleep, we’ll be at our destination in about 8 hours,” He says. You nod and start looking for a place to lay down. The corner by the ladder seems like your best option, so you fluff up the blankets as best as you can and lay down on the cold metal. You see the Mandalorian check on the kid before flicking off the light switches. Staring into the darkness, you hear the clanging of metal on metal as he settles into his “bed”.  _ He...sleeps in the armor?  _ You knew his kind didn’t let people see their faces and therefore kept their helmets on, but the heavy armor seems a bit excessive. Before you can think too hard about it, you start to drift off. Even with the terribly uncomfortable place you’re sleeping in, your long day exhausted you. Pulling the last blanket over you, you fall asleep to the hum of hyperspace.


	4. leather gloves

He’s gone when you lazily open your eyes to an empty hull. Your back  _ aches  _ from sleeping on the hard floor, and it cracks as you shove yourself up to stand. The ship is eerily still. Walking over to the ladder, you slowly pull yourself up the rungs until you’re in the cockpit. Outside the large windshield, you see snowy mountains and dirt peeking through layers of ice and slush on the ground.  _ His bounty must be on this planet...this planet...where are we?  _ You check the nav computer, clicking through menus until you find the GPS. 

_ CURRENT PLANET: ZEFFO _

_ PUCK COORDINATES:  _ _ 35°N, 90°E _

So you’re on Zeffo.  _ Never heard of it.  _ You go to fetch your datapad downstairs to look up the unfamiliar planet.

_ ZEFFO _

_ POPULATION: 0 _

_ LAST KNOWN EVENTS: IMPERIAL EXCAVATION _

_ CURRENT STATUS: ABANDONED _

Smart, hiding on an abandoned planet. No one would think to look on an empty ball of rock and ice like this. Unless they had your coordinates, of course. Then it’s about the dumbest move you can make.

Putting away your datapad, you glance over at your pile of blankets near the ladder. It’s a sorry excuse for a bed, but a lack of civilization means a lack of shops.  _ Ugh. May as well make it clean for when he gets back, I guess.  _ You walk over to the pile and start folding the blankets until they’re sitting in a neat little stack in the corner. You step back to admire your work before looking around the rest of the hull, noticing a strip of lighting dimmer than the other. Sluggishly making your way over to the opposite wall, you press open panel after panel until you find the wires responsible for lighting. A few wires are damaged and burnt, as if the system was overexerted and had some sort of malfunction. Still, it’s an easy fix, and within a couple of hours, the lighting is not only fixed but brighter and more fuel-efficient. You close the panel right as you hear the shuffling of the kid waking up. Shuffling over to the fridge, you preemptively grab some sketchy looking meat before making your way to the pram. You push the open button to see those bulbous black eyes peering up at you. 

“Hungry?” you say as you dangle the meat in front of his wrinkled face. He lazily lifts a tiny hand to grab his breakfast and gurgles contently as he chomps down on it. You sigh as your own stomach growls in response. Returning to the fridge, you scan over your options. More mystery meat, a dark red leafy vegetable of some sort, the remnants of a bottle of blue milk, and a spiky orange fruit.  _ Meiloorun fruit.  _ You slice it up with a pocket knife and place a piece in your mouth, savoring the sweet flavor. It’s been  _ forever  _ since you’ve had fresh fruit. You finish it just as you hear a soft thump from across the room. You turn your head to see the child now own the floor, waddling over to the ladder. Once he reaches it, he attempts to climb it, but can’t even reach the bottom rung. When he realizes this, he looks over at you with possibly the saddest look you’ve ever seen. Rolling your eyes, you walk over and scoop him up into one arm before taking him up to the cockpit.

You place the kid in the right-hand seat before sitting down in the pilot’s seat. _His_ seat. Your eyes graze the multitude of buttons, switches, and levers on the dashboard in front of you. _This looks so complicated. Wish I could fly one of these._ _I wonder if he’d ever teach me how to fl-_ Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud whine from the seat behind you. Swiveling around in your chair, you look back to see the creature with an even sadder look on his face. “You miss your dad, huh?” you ask, knowing he can’t respond “Yeah, me too.”

As you sink further into the leather seat, you realize it has a certain...musk to it. A manly scent. Bergamot, sandalwood, and a hint of mint fill your nose as you breathe in the Mandalorian’s smell. You wonder where he is right now, out on Zeffo. Hiking an icy slope? Capturing the quarry? Your eyes wander around the scene displayed in front of you, taking in the distant clouds and endless sharp mountains. It’s so different than Batuu, so different than what you’ve known for your entire life. Sure, your home planet has its own beauty and life, but this was so unique. The rocky slopes, the glistening snow. A smile spreads across your face as you begin daydreaming of all the different environments, all the different planets, you could discover across the galaxy. It’s all finally in reach. Just a few button clicks away.

You nearly fall back asleep thinking about the distant worlds waiting for you until a blinking light pulls you back to Zeffo. The screen in front of you is lit up and now reads:

_ QUARRY SUCCESSFULLY FROZEN. RETURN PUCK FOR CREDIT. _

_ The quarry is frozen? What? Oh, carbonite. Right….But wait, that means he’s back, that means- _

“There a reason you’re sitting in my chair?” a dark voice says behind you. Your body tenses as you slowly turn the pilot’s seat around to face the back of the cockpit. The Mandalorian leans casually against the cockpit door as the child coos happily at his return. Your eyes shoot up and down his body, seeing the subtle muscle through the armorless parts of his outfit. 

“Oh, shit. Fuck. Sorry, I was just..um...just admiring the dashboard. Always wanted to fly a ship like this, ya know? And he wanted to be up here too. He was, um, looking for you! Anyways, fuck, sorry.” You stumble, breathlessly tripping over words.

“Language,” he says with a sigh. “Always wanted to fly, huh?” He takes a step towards you, and you leap up from the chair before he commands “No, sit. You’re gonna fly.” Your eyes widen as you process the words he just spoke. 

“Wh-what? No no no, I can’t. I’ve never even driven a land speeder, I couldn’t possibly fly a ship. I can’t, um...sir?”

“Call me Mando. And yes, you can. I’ll show you,” he says before pressing his beskar against the back of the leather seat. 

“Okay, thanks, uh, Mando,” You can smell his intoxicating scent, and feel butterflies rise in your stomach as his arms reach around you. He takes your hands in his gloved ones, yours small in comparison, and guides your right hand over to a group of buttons. 

“Gotta power up the flight system. Top left, top middle, bottom left.”

Your mind is racing at the sudden contact, at the leather against your skin, but you do as he says and watch as the screen once again lights up with a new phrase written across it. 

_ INPUT DESTINATION: _

“Now look at this puck and type in the coordinates.” He holds a glowing puck in front of you as you follow his instructions. The message clears to a blank screen, and he flicks a few switches with his left hand before moving your right from the buttons to a large lever. “I primed the take-off sequence. Just pull this, and it’ll autopilot us up.” You gulp before yanking the heavy lever back, and the ship begins to rumble underneath you before you feel yourself rising quickly through the atmosphere.

“Good girl.” Mando’s rumbling voice booms. Those simple words send a shock through your system. You can’t even begin to process before his strong hands leave yours and move to the back of the chair. He slowly turns the chair around before he’s towering over you, and you nervously avoid his gaze, looking at your feet instead. You feel his stare on the back of your neck for a second before his hand comes to your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The beskar helmet casually tilts to the side, looking over your anxious face, before his modulated voice rings back through your ears. “Are we gonna ignore this? Or are we gonna act like adults and do something about it?”

“Th-this? What do you mean?” you tremble. You try to move your gaze back to the floor but his firm hand keeps you planted firmly in place.

“You know what I mean.”  _ Is he doing this on purpose? How does he know that I think about him like that? Does this mean he thinks about me? What is even happening right-  _ “You gonna make this difficult? Fine.  _ I’ll  _ do something about it then.” A wave of anxiety, confusion, and pure lust washes over you at his words.  _ What? Is this what I think it is?  _ Your question is immediately answered as he moves his thumb from your chin to your bottom lip, brushing it. You feel your cheeks fill with color as he slips it carefully into your mouth, stopping just in front of your teeth. “Take it off,” he commands, and you hesitantly bite down on the cool leather. He slowly pulls his hand out of the glove and you get the first glimpse of his skin. Tanned, with a couple of scars and light veins running up his hand to his wrist. You don’t even notice you’re staring at it before he tugs the glove out of your mouth and tosses it to the floor. He places his gloved hand on your shoulder before running it down your arm, down your side, before finally resting on your thigh. “So, what’s it gonna be doll? You gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Uh, um, yes...please,” you can barely think right now, let alone formulate a proper sentence. He responds with a low “Right choice,” before putting his bare middle and ring finger back into your mouth, this time pushing farther until they rest on your tongue. “Suck.” And you do. You coat his fingers with spit as you swirl your tongue around them. He’s silent as he slowly pulls them out. “Take them off,” he says, nodding towards your pants. With shaking hands, you carefully slide your pants down until they pool at your ankles. He lowers to his knees with a light clang as he traces the wet fingers up your inner thigh. Pulling your panties to the side, he slowly drags a finger up your slit, purposefully sliding justtttt past your clit. He pauses for a second at the top before circling around your clit at such a good angle it makes your toes curl. “Such a pretty little thing. And already so wet for me? Perfect,” his modulated voice echoes through the room. Your breath hitches as he keeps lightly rubbing around it. Maker, it felt good. “Don’t be afraid, you can be loud. I know this feels good princess,” The unexpected pet name surprises you, and you let out a soft moan as he begins to speed up. “Therrrreee we go. Good girl,” he says, and you feel your thighs tense as the pleasure begins to build up in you. Stars, this is so good. Sure, boys on Batuu had done this to you a couple times, but it never felt like  _ this.  _ His strong fingers somehow knew just where to go. He’s only been at this for maybe a minute, but it’s been so long for you that you’re already chasing your finish.

“F-fuck Mando. Feels so gooood,” you moan. A low “mhmmm” comes from the helmet in front of you, and you snap your eyes shut as you feel yourself getting close to your climax. “M-mando, please,” you say breathlessly.

“Please what? Use your words doll,” he responds.

“I’m getting close. Please can I finish? Please, it feels so good,” you moan. His fingers keep rubbing you in  _ just  _ the right way, and you feel yourself getting close, so close, so close when-

“No,” he says as moves back from you and stands up.

“Wh-what?”

“You asked if you could cum. Not yet. Gotta put us in hyperspace first.” For the first time, you notice the stars around you. You completely forgot about Zeffo, about the ship, about any of it. Your thoughts were consumed by  _ MandoMandoMando.  _ Your legs shake as he pushes a few more buttons before pulling on the same big lever. The stars around you begin to blur as he turns around, facing you again. “You wanna finish?” he asks. You quickly nod. “Then  _ beg for it,”  _ Without another thought you do exactly as he instructs.

“Please Mando, please let me cum. I need it so bad pleasepleasepleaseplease-” your cries are cut off by the sharp sound of metal on metal as he sinks back onto his knees and shoves your panties down to your ankles.

“Then you’ll get what you ask for.” He runs his fingers up and down your throbbing pussy a few times until they’re slick, and shoves two into your entrance. Pleasure rips through you as he begins fucking you with his fingers. In, out, in, out, in out. “You like this, huh? I know how bad you’ve wanted this. Don’t think I didn’t notice that extra-long shower you took yesterday. I see how you look at me.” You interrupt him with a loud moan before he continues “But here’s the thing, doll. I wanted you just as bad. From the moment I saw you. Such a pretty little thing.” He slows down his fingers slightly as he begins to curl them upward, hitting a spot in you you’ve never even felt before. It feels amazing, and you’re already getting close again. 

“Fuckkkk, Mando. Feels. So. Good.” you moan. He moves his gloved hand under your shirt, sliding up your warm skin until he reaches your breast. He just cups it in his hand, fingers still working fast inside you. “Just as I thought. Perfect like the rest of you,” he says. 

“Please, Mando, please. So close, gonna cum, please,” you say, heart racing.

“Hmm,” You feel the familiar heat spreading through your stomach. You can’t wait any longer. “Well, since you asked nicely. You can. Cum for me, pretty girl,” As soon as the words leave his mouth an overdue orgasm rips through you. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel him finger you through it. “Good girl,” he says quietly. Legs shaking, you finally come down from your high and open your eyes to see the visor staring right back at you. He stands back up again and turns around before lifting his helmet ever so slightly. You’re confused until he takes his bare hand up to his mouth, tasting you. “So perfect,” he says “You were so good for me doll.” As he turns back around, you see a new bulge in his pants.

“Should I, do you want me to, um, help you with that?” you ask.

“Not today, pretty girl,” he says before grabbing his glove from the floor and putting it back on his hand. “We’ll be at our next destination in 7 hours. Get some sleep,” He opens the floor hatch and walks down the ladder without another word. 

Once your legs stop shaking, you carefully climb down after him. You reach the bottom and turn around to see a strange sight. For the first time, he’s taking off the beskar in front of you. You watch as he takes off the leg pieces, chest plate, shoulder guards, and wrist pieces until he’s just in a black undershirt and loose black pants. The helmet, of course, stays on.

He goes to flick off the lights and the room plunges into darkness. You hear him get into bed and make your way to your own pile of blankets. You know vulnerability and touch must be hard for him, but you have to admit you’re a little upset at not being invited to the bed when you have to sleep on the floor. You lay down with a sigh and pull the blankets up and around you. You blush slightly as you review the events of the day. How  _ he  _ touched you. Curling up with a sigh, you’re beginning to drift off when you feel a rustling nearby. Then footsteps, getting closer and closer until they’re right next to you.

“Mando?” you say uncertainly. He doesn’t respond, but you hear him carefully lay down on the floor next to you. Your heart races for the billionth time today as he slowly snakes an arm around your tummy, pulling you in until he’s spooning you. You breathe in his now-familiar scent, feeling the warmth of his broad chest on your back. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you just listen to his steady breaths. In, out, in, out, in, out. You drowsily cuddle in closer to him as you barely hear him whisper 

“Goodnight pretty girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally some smut for y'all!! this is my first time writing smut so pls lmk what u guys think!


	5. avoidance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took a while! i was absolutely swamped with tests these last couple weeks. anyways, hope you guys enjoy :)
> 
> also more spice in this chap ;)

The next day starts the same as the last. Empty hull, sore back. You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you frown at the lack of beskar around you.  _ He  _ had laid with you last night...he had  _ touched  _ you. You blush a little as you start folding your blankets up. Right as you finish putting them in a neat stack, you hear the kid shuffle around in his pram. You rush over and pick him up just as he’s opening his eyes. 

“Mornin, kid,”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Later that evening, you’re fixing a squeaky hydraulic cylinder when you hear the ramp creaking open. You quickly get out of the way as you see Mando slowly walk up, handcuffed quarry in front of him. He turns to look at you, eyes raking up and down your body. That kind of look from a stranger makes your insides turn out. It’s a subtle glance but isn’t missed by Mando.

“The fuck you lookin at her for??” he growls as he grabs the quarry by the elbow.

“Chill out man, what’d you expect me to do with such a-” he’s cut off by Mando pressing his pistol to his temple.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” He keeps the gun to the quarry’s head until he’s fully in the carbonite chamber. As white clouds fill the hull, you see his shining beskar emerge from the haze.

“Hey, uh, thanks,” you say. He nods at you before walking back over to the ladder, climbing up to the cockpit. You blink confusedly as the clouds clear.  _ What? That’s it? He had his hands in me yesterday and now he won’t even say hi?  _ You put your tools back into their box before shuffling over to the cockpit ladder.  _ He shouldn’t just ignore me like that. Maybe he’ll talk up here?  _ The cockpit door slides open and you see Mando sitting in his chair, analyzing the next puck. He stays quiet as you carefully sit in the seat behind him. After a few minutes of silence, you clear your throat, “Rough quarry huh? Why was he being hunted?” At first, you think he’s ignoring you, but after a minute he quietly responds.

“Conman.” His back stays to you.  _ Why is he being so weird?  _

“Interesting...I fixed your armory door, by the way. Had a squeaky cylinder.” He just nods as he punches in the next coordinates. You had no idea why he was being so cold to you. The man was cuddling you barely 12 hours ago, and now he won’t even talk to you? Frustrated, you get up from the chair with a huff. “Ok then. I’m gonna go since you clearly don’t wanna talk.” Again, silence. You angrily walk through the cockpit doors and make your way down the ladder as quickly as you can. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The next few days are filled with huffs and sighs. The Mandalorian is now actively avoiding you. He stays holed up in the cockpit, only coming down late at night to sleep or for a minute to grab food. You take care of the kid and sulk around the hull, fixing random things to fill the time. What was his problem? Were you just that bad? Is he embarrassed of your...moment? 

It’s been 4 days now, and he hasn’t said a word to you. You’ve been to a couple of planets, gotten a couple of quarries. You’re in hyperspace now, and he’s still locked away in his cockpit. As you sweep dust bunnies from the corners of the ship, you form a plan. You’ll go up there, saying you have to clean it, and try to start a conversation with him. He can’t stay quiet forever, right? You lean the broom against a wall, glance over to make sure the child is asleep, and quietly make your way up the ladder.

Pausing at the top, you take a deep breath.  _ You can do this. Just start a conversation.  _ You take a step forward and the cockpit doors whoosh open. The Mandalorian stirs but says nothing.  _ Must have been sleeping.  _

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just gonna clean a bit in here.” Silence. You grab a rag from your back pocket, spraying it cleaner before beginning to wipe down the windshield. It wraps around most of the cockpit, but eventually, you’ll be right next to him.  _ Good.  _ “Soooo, how’s it been up here? Haven’t seen you in a while.” Nothing. “Do you know what the next planet is like? I’m hoping we can go to a desert planet sometime, I wanna see a cactus. Do you have a favorite planet?” Still, silence. Not even a nod. You sigh as you step closer to him, cleaning the next glass panel. “I’ve heard Kashyyyk is really pretty. Have you been there?” No sounds but the ambient hum of hyperspace. You take another step with a huff, brushing right up against his chair. You sigh again, frustrated.

“There a problem?” The sudden response makes you jump. You’re quiet for a second before you fully process what he just said. 

“Of course there’s a fucking problem! You’ve been ignoring me for no reason! One minute you’ve got your fingers inside me and the next you’re locking yourself up here. Why won’t you talk to me? Was I just a little experiment to you? Were you just fucking bored or something? What the hell is wrong w-”

“On your knees,” his deep voice cuts you off.

“Excuse me?” you say incredulously.  _ How dare he just- _

“On. Your. Knees,” he repeats, this time with a darker tone coming through the modulator.  _ He’s not kidding.  _ You glare at him as you slowly follow his instructions. “Good girl,” Just like last time, the words make you blush. He stands from the pilot’s seat, towering over you. You slightly shake under his broad shadow as he lowers a gloved hand to your head, lightly petting your hair. As you look up at him, he takes his other hand and tugs a glove off. He moves his bare hand to the waistband of his pants, running his fingers under the seam before pulling them down slightly. You gulp as you see his dark pubic hair emerge. Before, you were angry. Now, you’re horny and angry. Weird combo. He watches you for a second before pushing his pants fully down until they fall to his ankles. Now, he’s left in his tight boxers. His bulge greets your eyes and you nervously snap your head down to the floor. “Look,” he commands. Slowly, you raise your head back up to see him lightly palming himself. He makes a little sigh as you see his bulge swell. You keep your eyes trained on it, not daring to look up at his face. After a minute, he finally pulls his boxers down. His cock springs up, bobbing up towards his stomach before settling down in front of you. It’s….big. At least eight inches, give or take. And girthy too, with a large vein running up the shaft. You blush as you realize you’re staring and look back down at the floor in embarrassment. “I said look. I’m not gonna ask again,” he says as he threads his gloved fingers through your hair. Before you can respond, he pulls up, yanking your head up to look at his. He stares you down, keeping your hair tightly wound between his fingers. You watch as he takes his bare hand and holds it out in front of you. “Spit.” You feel a rush of anxiety and excitement as you follow his orders. He then slightly loosens his grip on your hair, lowering you down until you’re staring at  _ it  _ again. You watch as he rubs your spit up and down his length before closing his hand around it. “Fuck,” he whispers as he slowly starts jerking himself off in front of you. His fist glides back and forth, his thumb brushing the tip every time he comes up.

You want to help, want to make him feel good, anything to get back that feeling of a few days ago. The sight of him jacking off like this, the quiet sounds he makes as his breath hitches, the hand lightly tugging on your hair. It all makes you sticky and uncomfortable down there. “You like watching me do this, don’t you? Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” He stops moving his fist before starting to thrust up into it. A small bead of precum springs up from his tip and before you can think it through, you lean forward, licking it up. He pauses before letting his hand fall down. “Suck it.” You immediately scoot closer and slowly lick up his shaft, running your tongue over the pulsing vein. He visibly shudders under your touch as you reach the tip, taking it fully in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around it, tasting the salty tang of his precum. He quietly moans your name with another shudder. “Shittt.” You hollow your cheeks as you slowly push as much of him as you can into your mouth. The tip hits the back of your throat and you do your best not to gag. Once you’ve adjusted to the unfamiliar feeling, you begin slowly bobbing up and down on his dick, taking what you can’t fit with your fist. “Fuck, this is what you wanted right? My cock in your mouth? Pretty little slut,” You start going faster, spit dripping down his shaft. “You wanna know why I’ve been avoiding you, huh?  _ I can’t control myself around you.  _ Such a beautiful thing. Makes me so fucking needy,” he growls. 

You pull off with a pop, catching your breath. He pulls your hair up into his fist with a low hum. “Open.” As soon as you reopen your mouth he jams himself into you. You choke on his length before closing your mouth around him. “Such a good little whore for me,” he moans before beginning to thrust into your mouth. You move your hands up to the cool plates of beskar covering his thighs, steadying yourself as you take him down your throat. Spit drips onto the floor as he rams into you. “So. Fucking. Good,” he says with each thrust. You respond with a moan, vibrating against his pulsing length. “S-Shit, I’m close,” he says as you feel him twitch against your tongue. “Can I, um?” You nod as much as you can as he roughly tugs on your hair. “Yes, yes, yes, ffffuck!” he moans your name as you feel his cum shoot down your throat. The salty fluid fills your mouth as he rides through his high with a few lazy thrusts. He slowly pulls himself out of your mouth as a bead of cum drips down your lip to your chin. “Swallow it,” he lowly commands as he wipes your chin clean. You happily oblige, feeling the warm liquid flow down your throat.

Brushing the back of your hand against your lips, you fall back on your bum. Exhausted, you slump over as you catch your breath. You hear his belt buckle rustle as he tucks himself into his pants before he kneels down on the floor. He lifts your chin with his finger and you sleepily look back at him as he scans your face. “You okay? Was I too rough?” 

“I’m fine,” you say as you shake your head “Just don’t ignore me again, okay?” He sheepishly looks away for a second before coming back to you.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I just, I don’t, I don’t do this kinda thing. I didn’t know if, um, if you wanted this,” he mumbles quietly, the modulator barely picking up his voice.

“I do. I really do,” you respond. You can’t tell what expression is behind the mask, but you imagine it’s a smile.

“Good,” he whispers as you lean into him, your head resting on his cold shoulder. He freezes for a second before moving a hand to your back, rubbing it. You inhale his delicious scent as you feel his strong arms wrap around you. “Tired?” he asks. You can barely manage an  _ mhm _ in response. He lets you sit there for a minute before he suddenly scoops you up, gently putting you over his shoulder before standing up. You’re too tired to protest as he exits the cockpit, slowly taking you down the ladder. 

When you reach the bottom he walks over to your pile of blankets, crouching to carefully let you down onto them. He fluffs the top blanket, tucking you in, before he moves back to remove his beskar. After a couple minutes of light clangs of metal on metal he settles down next to you. He pulls you into him, pressing his chest against your back and tangling his legs with your own. “I promise I’ll never avoid you like that again. I’m sorry. Now get some sleep, beautiful,” is the last thing you hear before you’re closing your eyes and letting yourself succumb to sleep.


End file.
